A delightful blend of French and Balochi folk culture was presented recently by the Trio Guerbigny and the Pastoral Baloch Group, under the auspices of the Alliance Francaise in Karachi. The programme was in celebration of Francophonie Week and cultural diversity, and the two groups have performed together for eight years.

On one hand they offered a variety of Balochi shepherds’ songs and folk dances, with accompaniments embellished by the sound of the accordion, saxophone, guitar and the violin. On the other, they presented traditional folk songs from Poitou in Central France with the rubab, banjo, taanpura and the dholak, adding their voice to these instruments.

Prominent in the Balochi section was the rich and powerful voice of Akhtar Channal Zehri, who opened the programme along with Benoit Guerbigny in a charming animal calling exchange, taking one’s heart to the Kaghan Valley and such places, where the nomadic shepherds may be seen and heard guiding their flocks along the dusty roads. During the vigorous music that followed, Abdul Haq performed a lively Balochi folk dance.

With a melodious combination of music from the violins of Gabriel Lenoir and Robert Thebaut, from the dholak of M. Zahid and from M. Yameen Salahi on the rubab, we then enjoyed the story of a Balochi king, all musicians playing with obvious enjoyment, and featuring a skillful guitar interlude.

In his spirited presentations, and with clarity of expression, Akhtar led us through a variety of songs and stories, now and then joining Abdul Haq in the dances. His ponderous, solemn dignity contrasted well with the fixed grin and lithe movements of the latter, while their soft leather sandals made no sound on the stage floor. But actually, the dancer’s smile should be spontaneous, springing from genuine enjoyment of his act, from happiness born of audience rapport, and such things.

Dane pe Dana, first popularised by Shazia Khushk, and with its captivating words: “tu phool kanwal ka, tu sher ghazal ka…” was highlighted by Guerbigny’s stirring saxophone. In contrast, soon after this came a jolly French melody, with alternating passages in French and Balochi, and much work for the dancer.

Notable also was the jugalbandi between the two sides, the rubab and banjo of the Balochi contingent played in somewhat somber mood, matched by the downcast eyes of the musicians.

Another purely magical item began with the guitarists beating out a rhythm on the wood of their instruments, this percussion soon taken up by a smiling Zahid on his dholak. A deluge of music emerged from both ensembles, fading away like the last drops of a rainstorm, rising again from the dholak and the French string instruments, then dropping into a sensitive double guitar movement, before the violins led the whole company into their final flourish, earning sustained applause.

Undoubtedly, le piece de resistance was the concluding item, Mast Qalandar Jhoolay Lal. Here, all instruments began in unison, followed by some staccato on the strings and a dholak solo, giving way to Akhtar Channal’s powerful recitation in Balochi, Urdu and Persian, and leaving the words “Murshid ka haath thaam kar Allah ka naam liya kar,” ringing in our ears.